


we built this right, so nothing's ever gonna move it

by wafflesofdoom



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Married Life, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29680428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesofdoom/pseuds/wafflesofdoom
Summary: evan buckley-diaz and the good, no, great - no, perfectly normal day.or - buck just loves being married.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 27
Kudos: 403
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	we built this right, so nothing's ever gonna move it

**Author's Note:**

> (mostly) no plot just domestic bliss.
> 
> title from the bones by marren morris.

If you’d asked Evan Buckley his opinion on marriage a few years ago, it probably wouldn’t have been a particularly positive opinion. His parents seemed to like each other well enough, he supposed, but their marriage had always been marred by tension and explosive fights – and Maddie and Doug, well, they hadn’t exactly been something to aspire to, even before Buck had understood the full extent of what that bastard had put his sister through. 

The point was – Buck had never really had many fantastic examples of marriage to aspire to. When he’d joined the 118, he’d admired Hen, and Karen, and the unshakeable foundation their marriage was built on, and when Bobby and Athena had gotten married, he’d admired their strong partnership from afar, sure, but Buck had never really believed that he was the kind of person who was marriage material.

Not until Eddie, at least.

Doing his best not to move too much, Buck gently manoeuvred himself so he could look at the man in question. Eddie had been on a late shift, so Buck had been asleep when he’d gotten in – he’d woken up briefly when he felt the bed dip, signalling Eddie was home, but just like with any other late shift, Eddie was dead to the world, passed out on his back and snoring softly.

If Buck had been on the same shift, he’d have forced Eddie to turn over, and they’d have had a now-familiar, all too sleepy, argument, until Buck would literally wrestle his husband onto his side. Buck wasn’t the best sleeper, if he was being honest, and Eddie, on the other hand, conditioned by years in the military, could – and has, on a particularly memorable occasion – fall asleep literally standing up.

On mornings like this, though, when their shifts didn’t entirely match up, and Buck had gotten three or four blissfully uninterrupted hours of sleep before Eddie had rolled in, post-shift, around three am, Buck didn’t mind so much.

It gave him a few minutes to admire his husband, too, Eddie’s bare chest rising and falling steadily, and reassuringly as he slept, Buck’s fingers itching to reach out and trace the tattoo on Eddie’s ribs, numerals that reflected their wedding date. Eddie had gotten it as a surprise – and Buck had cried for a truly embarrassingly long time when he’s first seen it.

He’d married a ridiculously gorgeous man, Buck reminded himself as he watched Eddie, his husbands hair a little on the long side, fluffy against his forehead, the silicone ring on his finger a reminder that he was Buck’s, and only Buck’s.

Though – Eddie must have been tired if he hadn’t switched his silicone ring out for his actual wedding ring, Buck noted.

Glancing at the time, Buck eased himself out of bed, stopping as he heard Eddie mumble tiredly, smiling to himself as he watched Eddie turn over, curling up on the side of the bed Buck had just vacated.

If Christopher didn’t need to be driven to school, Buck might have been tempted to stay in bed.

Buck managed to get dressed with a quietness he’d only gained as a skill when he and Eddie had moved into together, easing a pair of trousers and a t-shirt out of their wardrobe, making a mental note to tie his slightly too noisy belt buckle in the hallway in case he woke Eddie up as he tucked his phone in his pants pocket.

Easing their bedroom door shut behind them, Buck quietly picked his way across the hallway, down to where Christopher’s room was. They’d moved, recently, into a bigger house, with a bigger garden, and more room to have people over, and Christopher had been beyond excited to get to properly decorate his own room. Eddie had lived in a rented apartment for so much of Christopher’s living memory, and so couldn’t do much – and Buck would admit, he did encourage Christopher to go a bit wild when they were at the hardware store, picking out paint.

The kaleidoscope of colour on the far left wall of the room – rainbows, and an ocean, and a forest – clashed magnificently with the starry night sky painted on the ceiling that had taken Buck, and Eddie, and Bobby, when Eddie had gotten too annoyed with the finnicky painting needed, no less than six hours to finish.

It was the kids dream room, and Buck would do anything to make Christopher’s dreams come true.

“Morning, kid,” Buck greeted, knocking gently on the door, Christopher grinning happily from where he was reading a book, still tucked up underneath his duvet. “Have you been awake for long?”

Christopher shook his head. “No,” he said. “I woke up early and I saw dad’s boots were by the door, so I tried to go back to sleep – and I couldn’t, so I read the next chapter.”

Buck smiled as he let Christopher’s words sink in – once the little boy had the confirmation his dad was home, he’d been happy to entertain himself. Buck – he wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to be as good as Christopher was, if either of his parents had been a first responder. Chris never needed to be reminded to be a little quieter than normal, if one of them was sleeping off a night-shift. “Is it a good chapter?”

Christopher nodded eagerly. “I think this is going to be my new favourite book.”

“Wow, your new favourite? That’s a pretty big deal, Chris,” Buck said. “I don’t want you to have to put it down, but….”

“I know,” Christopher sighed, carefully marking his place. “It’s time to get ready for school.”

“You got it, kiddo,” Buck grinned. “How about you get yourself dressed, and I’ll make you something good for breakfast?”

“Pancakes?” Christopher tried.

“You know the rule, no sugary breakfasts on school days,” Buck reminded. “How about some oatmeal?”

Christopher sighed. “With cinnamon?” he questioned.

“Am I a monster, Christopher Diaz?” Buck feigned offence. “Of course there will be cinnamon. And if you’re ready early, I might even have time to stop and get us coffee.”

Buck wasn’t crazy – he wasn’t actually going to give his twelve-year old son actual coffee before school, but they’d taken to getting Chris an iced tea, or a decaf coffee, sometimes, and the kid hadn’t caught on to the fact there wasn’t actually any coffee in what they gave him, and it ended up being decent encouragement to get Christopher to get a wriggle on, and get out of the house – there was nothing, Buck was realising, that kids liked more than feeling more grown up than they actually were.

Christopher’s beaming face was encouragement enough. “Okay, Buck!” he nodded, shoving off his duvet cover.

“Do you need a clean uniform?” Buck inquired.

“No, I’m good.”

“Good,” Buck nodded. “And don’t – “

“Don’t forget to make my bed,” Christopher parroted. “I know, Buck.”

Smiling to himself, Buck left Christopher to get ready for school, heading for the kitchen. Buck loved their house – it had been a nightmare, doing the actual house-hunting, because they had a list of must haves the length of their arms that had slowly dwindled as they’d realised they couldn’t get everything they’d ever wanted on a mortgage based off two public employee salaries – even with Buck’s impressive savings – but they’d found the perfect house, in the end.

Buck loved the kitchen. He hadn’t loved the kitchen originally – it had been a cringey 1970s style kitchen, the cabinets a violent green, but the house had ticked all their other boxes, and Eddie had promised that Buck could design the kitchen of their dreams to do as the first (and so far only, Buck shuddered, thinking of the grim ensuite bathroom he and Eddie shared) renovation in their new place.

Buck had taken that promise and ran with it, and now he had the kitchen of dreams – all bright woods and shades of white, the entire back-wall knocked out and replaced with floor to ceiling glass doors that led out onto their garden, Bobby responsible for the meagre selection of greenery that was growing out there.

The point was –

It was the kitchen of dreams, and Maddie had even bought them a kitchen-aid, for a housewarming gift, and Eddie had gone into full meltdown mode when he’d realised there was a literal app for the mixer (not a Hildy, though – because the only thing permanently banned from the Buckley-Diaz household was Hildy) and gone on quite the spectacular rant about how robots were going to rot peoples brains until Buck got the hang of it and started making homemade bread, and Eddie had gotten really, suspiciously quiet about the app after that.

So perfectly timed Buck was sure he couldn’t have planned it, the microwave dinged to signal Christopher’s oatmeal was ready just as the boy entered the kitchen, his polo-shirt slightly askew but the rest of his uniform neat.

Pressing a kiss to the top of Christopher’s head, Buck sat across from him, watching as Christopher eagerly tucked in. “Have you done all your homework, kiddo?” he inquired, knowing the answer – he’d gotten in front his shift just in time for the dreaded yelling match that English homework was, at the moment, and he’d sat with Christopher and Carla as they’d worked through the sheet Chris had been given to complete, and then Christopher had apologised for being grumpy and taken Buck through his entire schoolbag to prove he’d done the rest of his homework without a fight, really.

Christopher nodded. “I need to bring the permission slip, for the museum trip,” he said. “You or dad were supposed to sign it, I put it on the fridge.”

Buck twisted in his seat, and sure enough, there was a sheet of paper on the fridge waiting to be signed. “Good memory,” he hummed, standing up to grab the permission slip, rooting in what he affectionately called the junk drawer (mostly because the word ‘junk’ stressed Eddie out) for a working pen.

He’d been married for the better part of eight months now, and Buck had changed his name to Evan Buckley-Diaz as soon as they’d gotten back from their honeymoon, but signing it still felt like a novelty. It was probably because they’d just kept their names as they were before, for work – it was only for things like this, permission slips and bank statements and reprints of his social security card and credit card, that Buck actually got to see his real name written.

Evan Buckley-Diaz. It had a ring to it, if you asked him.

“Aren’t you having breakfast?” Christopher asked as Buck folded the permission slip, tucking it into Christopher’s school agenda so he wouldn’t lose it.

“I’ll have something later,” Buck reassured. He had a plan – to woo his husband, actually – but he didn’t need Christopher knowing that. He was twelve, and Buck would take all the beautifully innocent years he could get before he’d have to sit through a conversation about the birds and the bees, however fun it would be to see how red Eddie’s face would get when the time came.

Christopher seemed satisfied with his answer, launching into a deeply confusing story about two of his friends and third period science that Buck couldn’t quite follow as Christopher finished his breakfast.

Buck had always wanted to be a dad – always, for as long as he could remember – and the reality of it was better than anything he could have imagined. It has taken some getting used to, when he’d moved in and witnessed Christopher’s first (‘not first, Buck – first for you’) tantrum, but Buck loved being a dad. He loved seeing Christopher grow up and become even more hilarious and kind and watch as he found new interests and made new friends.

It was the best, even on their bad days.

He’d do just about anything to see Christopher flash him one of those bright, goofy smiles of his – even if that something was queuing in a Starbucks drive-thru during the school rush hour, while Christopher hummed happily in the backseat, because the megawatt smile he got in return for a (decaf) latte from their almost teenager was entirely worth it.

Swallowing a snarky comment about the driver in front of them, Buck pulled into the drop off zone. “Alright kid, you better hustle,” he glanced in his rear-view mirror. “You absolutely cannot be late for school because we went to Starbucks, your dad would never forgive me.”

Christopher snorted, finishing the last of his drink before he wriggled out of his belt, high-fiving the hand Buck had outstretched. “Love you, Buck!” he declared, Buck fighting the urge to help Christopher out of the car. That was the side of parenthood he wasn’t so good at yet, the overprotectiveness – but Eddie never wanted Christopher to be anything less than independent, and the whole reason they’d traded in Eddie’s ridiculous truck for a car that was lower to the ground was so Christopher didn’t need to be lifted in and out of it.

Christopher’s backpack was half hanging off one shoulder as he steadied himself on his crutches, and Buck bit back a laugh at the wide-eyed, wild curls that were staring endearing into the drivers window. “I love you too, Chris,” he reassured. “Now, go and learn something. I want a new fact from you by the end of the day!”

“You got it, Buck!”

Cranking up the radio, Buck hummed happily to himself as he navigated his way out of the drop-off zone, heading for the grocery store. He’d never imagined a life where he’d be this content with domesticity, but Buck was grateful it was his life – the familiarity, the security of it all, it was so deeply reassuring, and everything Buck had never had himself, growing up.

That made it all the more enjoyable, really.

The house was still quiet when Buck got home, a couple of hours later, smoothie in hand as he did what always had Eddie rolling his eyes and dragged all their groceries inside in one go. (‘It’s lazy, Buck.’ ‘No, Eddie, its efficient, and you’re just jealous I’m stronger than you.’)

Sliding on his headphones, Buck set about cleaning the kitchen, humming quietly to himself as he ticked a few more boring jobs off his list – unpack the groceries, clean the oven, get the dishwasher unloaded and the other dishes washed. Everything bar vacuuming, actually, Buck noted, sticking on a load of laundry.

Maybe after Eddie woke up.

Glancing at his watch, Buck realised Eddie’s alarm would go off soon – if he’d remembered to set one. Eddie didn’t like sleeping too late in the day if he wasn’t working a string of late shifts, and they weren’t due back in until seven the next morning. Something about resetting his sleep schedule that Buck didn’t quite agree with – but Buck would need to have a regular sleep schedule in the first place to be able to reset to anything.

A cough from the doorway caught Buck’s attention as he finished making an omelette for the both of them. Eddie was standing in the doorway, wearing Buck’s old LAFD academy sweatshirt and looking adorably sleep rumpled, his brown hair practically standing on end, his eyes soft and sleepy as he watched.

“Hi,” Buck grinned dopily, pausing his music. “Long shift?”

Eddie stifled a yawn, nodding. “I missed you,” he admitted, the sun catching on his wedding ring, Buck’s heart skipping a beat as he realised Eddie had paused to switch out his rings before he’d come to find Buck.

The silicone ones were fine – and necessary, given Buck had destroyed no less than three silicone wedding rings in eight months while working – but the ring Eddie had on his finger now was the one Buck had put on his finger on their wedding day, and that meant a lot more.

“Do you think we should get tattoos?” Buck blurted.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Just – in general?”

“No, I mean – instead of wearing those silicone rings, all the time,” Buck shrugged. “What if we got tattoos where our rings are instead?”

Eddie looked thoughtful for a second. “That’s probably not a bad idea,” he hummed. “If we’re going to have to buy new ones every few months because you keep losing yours, it’ll end up being pretty expensive.”

Buck pointed his spatula at Eddie. “I’ve only lost one, thank you very much – the rest were sacrificed in the line of duty, rest in peace,” he grinned.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie finally moved, pressing a kiss to Buck’s clothed shoulder as he reached around him for a mug, looking pitifully tired as he squinted at their complicated coffee machine. “Still expensive.”

Buck swallowed a laugh, directing Eddie to sit down. “Sit,” he said, putting a plate of food in front of him. “Eat. I’ll make your coffee.”

Eddie eyed the plate suspiciously. “Are these bagels from the deli over by that coffee place you like so much?”

If it was anyone else, Buck definitely wouldn’t have understood.

“Yup,” Buck confirmed, setting a cup of coffee down in front of Eddie. “I got new coffee, too. The one you like.”

The happy groan that escaped Eddie’s mouth as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee was practically sinful. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

“Not yet,” Buck hummed, pulling his chair close to Eddie’s, putting his own lunch down on the table.

“Well then,” Eddie smiled, still tired, but looking a bit more awake, now, tugging on Buck’s chin with familiar hands. “I love you, Buck.”

“I love you,” Buck smiled, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I missed you too, for the record.”

Eddie shovelled a few forkfuls of food into his mouth before he spoke again. “How was Chris this morning?”

It was a testament to the confidence that Eddie had in Buck’s parenting that he waited this long to ask – and Buck wasn’t sure he’d ever have the words to thank Eddie for putting so much faith in him when it came to Chris.

“He was good,” Buck reassured. “There was a bit of a meltdown about his English homework last night again, though.”

Eddie sighed. “Do you think we should consider the extra tutoring?” he asked.

“Mm, maybe? I know he said he didn’t want to do it, but maybe if we talk to him about it again, he might be more willing,” Buck paused to take a bite of his bagel. “His teacher did say he thought it would be better to get on top of it before it becomes an issue. He’ll be in high school, before we know it.”

Eddie pulled a face. “Nope, not touching that existential crisis today,” he shook his head. “I’ll call the school, later.”

“Sounds good,” Buck nodded, speaking again after a beat of silence. “I did the laundry. And cleaned the kitchen.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Uh – thank you?”

“No, I wasn’t – I mean, I appreciate the thank you,” Buck grinned. “I was just pointing out that we’re basically already on top of chores. So we could – I don’t know, spend a very lazy afternoon in bed.”

Eddie grinned. “You’re forgetting.”

“Forgetting what?” Buck squinted at the family calendar. “No doctors’ appointments, no therapy – I’ll divorce you if you ever bring me to a meeting with the bank again. What am I forgetting?”

Eddie put a gentle hand on Buck’s knee. “We’ve got a meeting with a contractor to finalise the bathroom designs today, love.”

Buck groaned, slumping in his chair. “Why did I do that? Why did you allow me to do that on today, of all days? I was planning sex, Eddie. Like, a sex marathon.”

Eddie grinned. “Yeah, no, I got that,” he reassured. “And you booked the appointment for today because the contractor isn’t available at the weekends and this is our only afternoon off for the next week.”

“Sex, Eddie,” Buck repeated. “I even baked. We were going to have post-sex brownies and ice-cream.”

“Is that supposed to be sexy?”

“Chocolate is very sexy.”

“Baking isn’t.”

“Maybe I was going to let you eat the chocolate off my delicious, naked body,” Buck sighed dramatically. “Alas. Now we’re going to have to pick out what colour grouting we want in the bathrooms.”

“Not white,” Eddie mumbled through a mouthful of egg.

“What?”

“For the grouting. Not white. It’ll get gross too quickly and it’ll be annoying to clean.”

Buck gave his husband an incredulous look. “We were having a sexy conversation here, Edmundo.”

“No, we absolutely weren’t,” Eddie leaned in to kiss him. “But if you can be quick, we can have a sexier conversation in the shower and you can bring your brownies in a Tupperware to eat while we’re stuck in traffic on the way back from the contractors office.”

“By sexy shower conversation do you mean…..”

“A handjob,” Eddie offered, raising an eyebrow. “Fine, a blowjob, but you’re driving.”

“Eh, I’ll take it.”

“These are good brownies,” Eddie commented from the passenger seat, brushing crumbs off his pants. “Solid eight out of ten.”

“Only an eight?”

“I like to give you some room to improve,” Eddie hummed, smiling softly at Buck as he reached across the centre console to take Buck’s hand in his own. “You’re still thinking about the shower, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“You are.”

“Okay, maybe,” Buck relented, thinking of the possibly too expensive shower they’d just committed to as part of their ensuite renovation. The main bathroom had been easy – but Eddie had been determined they’d do something nice for themselves in their own. “But was it silly, going for a waterfall shower in our ensuite?”

“No,” Eddie sounded certain in his decision. “We’ll enjoy it.”

“It will be nice, won’t it?” Buck couldn’t help but agree.

“More room, too,” Eddie pointed out. “Less chance you’re going to hit your head.”

“I still feel like you’ll take that as a personal challenge.”

Eddie grinned cheekily, leaning back in his seat. “I absolutely will, yeah,” he confirmed, still holding tightly to Buck’s hand.

“Rude.”

“It’s not my fault I’m fantastic in bed,” Eddie shrugged. “I think you’ll find its yours, actually.”

“Oh, is it?” Buck raised an eyebrow.

“I married a sex maniac, something had to rub off – and yes, I did just hear what I said, don’t say a word.”

Buck snorted. “You do like to rub things.”

“I said no jokes.”

“It was too good to miss the opportunity,” Buck soothed, not meaning his apology in the slightest. “We’ve got some time before we need to collect Christopher from school. What do you want to do?”

“I want to….” Eddie trailed off, looking out the window. “How much is he going to hate us if he finds out we got ice-cream without him?”

Buck flicked his indicator on eagerly, noticing the ice-cream shop Eddie pointed out right away. “What he doesn’t know, doesn’t hurt him.”

“You’ve got your thinking face on.”

Buck looked up at Eddie’s words, watching as his husband spooned his slightly melted ice-cream into his mouth happily. “I don’t.”

“You do. Penny for your thoughts?”

“I – I’m just happy,” Buck admitted, setting his empty ice-cream tub down on the table, the late afternoon sun blissfully warm as they sat outside the ice-cream shop, the two of them having happily sat in silence since they’d gotten outside.

“More than usual?” Eddie prodded.

“No, I – about the same,” Buck paused. “I just didn’t know life could be like this.”

Eddie slung an arm over the back of Buck’s chair, giving him a questioning look. “Like what?” he asked, and he asked, because Eddie always asked – Eddie always wanted to know what Buck was thinking, what he was feeling, his opinion. Buck had never felt more reassured by anyone’s interest in his life before Eddie – even when they were just friends, Eddie had always listened.

“Happy,” Buck breathed out the word. “Like – I woke up this morning, and you were snoring next to me.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do, and I literally have video to prove it,” Buck replied. “I woke up this morning, next to you snoring.”

“How important is the snoring?”

“Its going to get more important if you keep interrupting me.”

“Sorry.”

“I woke up this morning next to you, Eddie Diaz, the great love of my life, snoring like a tiny, tired farm animal.”

“I hate you.”

Buck grinned, pressing their knees together. “You don’t,” he countered. “As I was saying, I woke up next to you this morning, and you looked adorable and gorgeous, even if you were snoring, and then I went to check on Christopher, and he was reading, and we had breakfast together, and we listened to our favourite songs in the car, and we got coffee – decaf, for Chris, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t,” Eddie reassured. “Worried, I mean.”

Buck gave his husband a grateful smile. “And I dropped him off at school, and I did the grocery shopping, and I cleaned, and we had really great shower sex and decided what colour our bathroom grouting should be, and it was all so perfectly mundane and boring and nothing out of the ordinary happened and that’s what made it so perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Buck nodded eagerly. “I – we have a normal, boring life, and I love it. I love that I get to wake up next to you, and take our kid to school, and sort the laundry, and spend nearly every minute of my life hanging out with my husband. What else could I possibly ever want?”

“A waterfall shower?” Eddie suggested.

“Be serious, Eddie!” Buck did not whine in response, because he was an adult man, and adult men did not whine.

“I am,” Eddie reassured, leaning in to press a kiss to Buck’s cheek. “And I feel the same, Buck. I love getting to just – live life with you. It’s everything I never knew I wanted, and I’m very glad I get to have it with you.”

“Because I made you brownies?”

“Because you’re the best guy I know, and you are kind, and funny, and smart, and gorgeous, and you take such good care of Christopher, and you love me, even when I’m being annoying,” Eddie said, glancing across the car-park. “And you made me brownies.”

Buck leaned into Eddie’s side, pressing a brief, sugary sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I like having a husband,” he admitted. “I like being married to you.”

“I like being married to you, too,” Eddie reassured, always reassuring. His wedding ring seemed to glitter in the sunlight, and Buck couldn’t stop the prideful, possessive feeling that swelled in his chest as he looked at the ring, a simple piece of jewellery that told everyone Eddie met that he was taken, that he had someone waiting for him at home.

Buck was glad to be that person.

“How do you feel about spaghetti?”

“Not particularly passionate, normally. It’s a solid type of pasta.”

“I was thinking for dinner, not in general.”

“Then I think very highly of it,” Eddie nodded. “Can we make garlic bread?”

“I’m not a monster, Diaz,” Buck repeated his earlier words. “Of course we’ll have garlic bread.”

“I set the timer for coffee,” Buck called, Eddie’s response an incoherent mumble. “If you’re brushing your teeth, Eds, I’m not going to understand.”

“I said, the robots are going to rot your brain.”

Buck rolled his eyes, leaning against the doorframe of their ensuite bathroom, watching as Eddie rinsed out his mouth. “I like the robots,” he countered, glancing around the dingy bathroom. “I can’t wait to never have to have sex with you in a bright yellow shower again.”

Eddie glanced over at the offending shower in question. “The people who owned this place before we did really made some questionable design choices, didn’t they?”

“And now we’re undoing all of them,” Buck grinned. “How nice.”

“The waterfall shower is going to be great,” Eddie said, washing his hands before he clicked off the bathroom light, nudging Buck toward their bed.

“So will the bath.”

“We will absolutely not be taking baths together in the place where our son also bathes, Buck,” Eddie shook his head. “That remains a fancy hotel treat.”

“Fine,” Buck flopped down on his side of the bed dramatically. “But only because the rarity of them is what makes it so nice.”

“That, and fancy hotel soap.”

“And chocolate.”

“You really need to stop associating chocolate and sexy or I might actually pop a boner next time you bake,” Eddie yawned, forcing Buck to lie on his side so he could get his arms around him, Buck snuggling into his husbands embrace.

“You already do,” Buck replied. “Because you find everything I do very sexy.”

“I do, especially sleeping, which you should do right now because we have work in the morning,” Eddie said pointedly, cold hands finding their way under Buck’s t-shirt. Buck had been married to the man spooning him for long enough to not even be surprised by it, anymore, and so he didn’t yelp – not like he’d done the first few times they’d shared a bed.

“You need to pay the phone-bill tomorrow, because I’ve forgotten the code to log in,” Buck suddenly said, remembering his earlier fiasco with the phone-bill and the companies application.

“Now that is a sexy thing to say to a man,” Eddie mumbled into the back of Buck’s neck.

“That’s adulthood, Edmundo.”

“Ready to do it all again tomorrow?” Eddie questioned.

Buck closed his eyes, unable to help his grin as he let the steady breathing of his husband start to lull him to sleep. “Yeah,” he sighed happily. “I am.”

**fin**


End file.
